Tetragnatha
by MasterMind13
Summary: The origins of the Other Mother and how she became who she is.


**I've had this idea for a long time. It was from when I had a dream a long time ago. I wanted this fanfiction to be special, something better. My headcanon surrounding the Other Mother involved her being human once, but how she became what she is today was the challenge. How did she become this way? So, here it is. I spent almost a month writing this. My next magnum opus.**

 **Well, then, I'll just leave you to read and review and I'll see you guys later.**

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You must be wondering how the Beldam came to be, right? Oh come now, don't be coy. Surely you must be curious to know. Aren't you a bit curious? Ready? Well, let's begin. Our story of the Beldam begins long ago in a pink house in the forest when the Beldam was once a human.

It all begins in a small town. Our Beldam, known by a different name long forgotten, lived in that very pink house in the forest. She was known for her embroideries and other crafts. She would go into the town to sell her crafts. The townsfolk simply loved her. The Beldam loved children. She would light up when they admired her embroideries and she would give them dolls she crocheted. It was wonderful to see the happy gleam in the children's eyes.

But there was one thing the townspeople didn't know about their famed craftswoman. In the dark of the night, the Beldam would marvel in the world of sorcery and witchcraft. Such a practice was punishable by burning at the stake. The Beldam had to work in secret to keep her reputation. She would open a thick book of spells, cauldron boiling and vials of potions aligned on the table. This interest started out as a hobby. At first as an escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday work, but then it transpired into something more. She began to enjoy the spell-casting. She would cast into the night and sleep until dawn, feeling more invigorated. She began playing with things she shouldn't. She wanted to find a way to create new life. Bring life into inanimate objects.

For days she would neglect her crafts, she would not go to town. Some days she would forget to eat or sleep. The obsession to bring her creations to life. They were called golems. She would cobble them out of leftover fabric and spend hours trying to find a way to make them sentient. After a time, even she knew it was impossible. And she stopped experimenting with her spells for a while. She went back to her old self after a few days away from the sorcery. She went into town, delighted to be back among the living, breathing world. Living, breathing people. The Beldam would be reminded of her attempts to bring golems to life. On the fifth day in town she dashed back home and opted to work on the spells again. She was sure she would get it right.

It was a night full of stars, the moon loomed over the forest and the Beldam's grand house. She found a spell in one of her grimoires. She was mixing one of her potions. She poured it over one of her golems. At the stroke of midnight, she chanted a spell and like a miracle the golem came to life. The Beldam gazed in wonder at the golem as it opened its glass eyes at its creator. The Beldam was so fulfilled. But in the process of bringing it to life, the Beldam was changed.

The townsfolk began to notice when the Beldam came to town. They saw the life sucked out of her, evident in her face. The Beldam herself saw the life drained out of her. But that did not stop her from continuing her work with the golems. The first golem she created was small. It was no bigger than a watering can. She used that golem for menial chores. She told it what to do and it did it. But the Beldam was obsessed with something more. More than just bringing golems to life. She wanted...something new. Something alive. Something like...a whole new world. What if she could create a new world? A world like ours, but better. That kind of work required time, patience and wit, she figured. But if she could bring a golem to life, then why not create another world?

The Beldam began preparations four days later, seeing no one and speaking to no one. She would not pay attention to the warning signs of her health deteriorating. The townsfolk wondered about their seamstress and her crafts. Some wanted to go up to her house in the forest and check on her. Some decided to wait until she comes to town on her own. They knew that it wasn't their business to get involved in other people's affairs, but they were worried about their favorite seamstress. By the fourth day no one seemed to be affected by the Beldam's sudden absence. It wasn't necessarily strange, as everyone had matters of their own to attend to. This gave the Beldam all the time she needed to prepare.

She had all the supplies she needed. Her health had been bouncing back and forth. The evidence on her face was readable. She looked like she had aged overnight. She had been neglecting to her duties, such as tending to her vast garden. Hiring someone to tend to her garden was not an option. She couldn't risk being caught doing her witchcraft. Keeping to herself was best.

She had chosen the perfect spot for her spell-casting. In her parlor there was a small door. It was never usually used for anything. The Beldam chose it to open her portal to another world. It was not yet time to perform the spell, so she had to wait a little longer to replenish and get enough energy. Bringing golems to life was rather taxing. The Beldam waited for the day she would finally try the spell. After a few days of resting, she began her work. She worked late into the night, waiting for the right moment. She casted the spell on the door. A green light glowed around the door. The door opened, a swirling vortex spun on the other side. The Beldam was amazed. She approached the portal, hand outstretched to touch the light. The moment her finger passed through the light, the transformation began. Green lightning coiled around her arm. Sparks flashed around the Beldam's body. A moment later and the Beldam was granted these powers. Powers unimaginable. She could feel magic circulating in her system. She was unstoppable.

For days she experimented with her magic, making the flowers in her garden grow faster at her command. She used her magic to bring more golems to life. But the more she used her magic, the more it corrupted her. No one noticed when the townsfolk came to the house for a visit. The Beldam used her new powers to restore her youthful image and hid behind a smile. She never used her powers in front of them. Clever, as always. The moment they were gone, the moment the sorcery began again.

You'd think that was it, right? Opening a portal and being granted magic powers by said spell. Well, no. The Beldam used her powers to open the portal to the other world. Opening the door now was as trivial as blinking. The little door locked when unused, unlocked when opened. The Beldam cloistered herself into the portal's void. The other side was, as you'd expect, empty. A blank, white void, just waiting for someone to fill it. The Beldam used her newfound free time to create something unimaginable. Using her new powers, she casted spells to create wildlife. Since she might have visitors, the Beldam sent the golems to the other world. She had them come and go whenever she wanted. Other times the Beldam would venture to the other world to see her creations. The Beldam mixed potions to pour on the wildlife she created in the other world, preserving its life force.

Remember the corruption mentioned earlier? Most nights, the Beldam would fight constantly against the darkness gnawing into her core. She could feel it, laughing at her, taunting her. The corruption deemed her foolish for playing with fire. The Beldam knew it. As mush as she fought it, she was slowly losing her sense of morality. Most days she tried to keep her head, but she knew that someday the darkness would take over. She was going to enjoy much of the world before she was engulfed by horrible nothingness.

Several days passed and nothing seemed to improve. The powers she was granted with slowly corrupted her more and more. There was no spell in any of her grimoires to eject it. It was too deep inside. She could feel her old self fade away. And time was running out. It was on a moonless night. The Beldam had grown weaker and her mind poisoned by darkness in her soul. She began regretting her actions. A simple folly soon escalated into disaster. It was too late to undo what was done. The darkness inside her ate away at her. She was losing her youthful facade. Most days she could hold it for hours, but now it was failing her. She heard commotion coming outside her house. It was some of the townsfolk, come to pay her a visit. She had forgotten it was a special holiday. The Beldam had lost all track of time fighting the dark corruption. She couldn't redo her youthful mask, and black veins had striped her face, like a tiger. The darkness had gotten stronger. It was taking over. She couldn't let them see her. She had to do something. The knocks on the door signaled the visitors' arrival. They were going to see her. She couldn't let them see what she'd become. The door opened. The Beldam was hiding in one of the hall closets. She was fighting back the darkness from taking over her. All those weeks of conjuring spells and potions, she was losing her old self. Her morality had vanished. The darkness took over. The Beldam's old self was gone.

She showed herself to her visitors. They were totally panic-stricken. While her ghoulish countenance frightened them, it was her eyes that appalled them. They glowed yellow-green. The pupils turned into slits like a snake. She had them right where she wanted. The cacophony broke out. The minute they tried to leave, the minute all doors and windows were sealed. No one could escape. They fought back, but the Beldam was stronger. With all the magic radiating in her, she was as powerful as any sorcerer that came before her. She was indeed unstoppable.

The fight went on. Furniture was thrown, shouts resonated in the house. The Beldam managed to batter them, but they fought back. They deemed her a witch the moment they saw her. The visitors' plan was to burn her, but since all the doors and windows were sealed shut, they would have to burn along with her. The Beldam chased them throughout the house, trying to distract her until the right moment to burn her. Getting to the kitchen was the hard part. The furniture floated in midair by the Beldam's magic. The four visitors had to act fast. Then they remembered. Her eyes. Perhaps they could blind her and she wouldn't be able to see them. Then the magic might die and would escape, but not before burning her. One of them, a man, found one of her knitting needles and pierced them through her eyes. Black blood poured in streams. Black blood. Telltale sign that she was no longer human. But, the visitors did not expect what happened next. Using the last of her strength, she managed to siphon their souls out. She absorbed their very spirit, their very life source. It channeled into her, leaving behind husks of sunken bodies, shriveled like the mummies of Egypt.

But she knew somebody would come snooping in the house. That's when she got the idea to leave. Where? To her other world. The one she'd conjured behind the little door. She crawled inside, taking some fabric and other knickknacks with her. After she closed the door, she was now part of her new world.

You think this must be it, right? Well, no. You see, that was the hard part. Once she closed the door, she immediately regretted it. Since she was from the human world, she needed to be replenished and her magic along with it. How did she figure that out you're asking? The grim truth is, she did it to me. Who am I? I am the Beldam's son. Her own son. She took me into the other world with her, to keep me from spreading the word to the town. I was the one who sewed in the buttons. The only way she had to keep her powers alive was by feeding off human souls. The souls she sucked out of from the visitors gave her the powers she needed. But such powers needed to be replenished. That's when she looked at me. I knew what she was going to do, so she killed me. My soul gave her the powers she needs to create her world. But she wanted more. Then she remembered something else. Before my mother turned into this beast, she gave me a golem of my own. It wasn't sentient, but it still had ties to her magic. She planned to use it as to spy on children, children who might be lost or happen to move into her old house. Then she remembered the key. The key was still on the other side of the door. Someone would come along and open it, find the other world, and venture inside. Her golems could act as helpers, traveling between this world and theirs.

After I died I was forced to watch as my mother killed child after child. It first started with that girl. The one wearing a flowered bonnet. My mother saw that she was bored of her life. The girl found my golem, and she modified it to look like her. Then she found the key. The one to open the small door. Of course she opened it, and she found my mother's world. My mother disguised herself to look like that girl's mother. She entertained her with gifts and games and wondrous food. The girl's eyes gleamed with joy. Every time she returned there was always something new for her to expect. Then my mother asked the girl if she would like to stay here forever. But staying meant she'd have to let her sew the buttons onto her eyes. She let her. At first she was ecstatic to be here, but then the dreaded night she devoured her, the girl's ghost trapped within the room behind the large mirror.

My mother kept the golem, the doll the girl dressed to look like her. My mother fashioned it differently. She made it look like a boy. Her powers gave her the ability to see into the future. The next child to come to the house was a little boy. Time passed and he came. And again, my mother disguised herself like the boy's mother. Again she swayed him toys, new clothes and fine delicacies. Again she asked if he would like to stay with her. He told her yes, and my mother sewed the buttons into his eyes. Just like the girl who came before him, he was not ready for what came next. My mother locked him in the dark room where the girl's ghost resides. His ghost was trapped, like hers. Again my mother recreated the doll. This time as a dark-skinned girl with braids and a yellow dress. Years passed and the girl came, but we were surprised. It was not one, but _two_ girls. Twins. This became a bit of a challenge. To my mother, this meant she could have more power if she took both of them. But the drawback was this: if she took both of them, then their parents will somehow find my mother's world. This would not comply with my mother. Once the twin with the yellow dress found the doll, her curiosity sparked. She found the key that unlocked the little door. She crawled inside and found herself in our world. Again, with my mother disguised as the little girl's mother, she immediately lavished her and spoiled her. One time, she brought her sister—dressed in a pale pink dress—to see the Other World. She took a good look at her "Other Mother," but she was not impressed. She did not like her, and tried to talk some sense into her twin sister. She should've listened. By the time she said yes to sewing buttons into her eyes she followed the same fate as the other two. Her ghost locked away in the dark room.

She spared her twin sister. My mother guessed that since they were twins, their parents would have one more daughter to love. Soon, news of the girl's disappearance spread like wildfire. When her twin—the one dressed in pink—tried to tell her parents about the world behind the small door, she was not believed. Downcast, the girl knew that her sister was trapped within the magical world behind the door. My mother figured she would not be believed if she told someone about the small door. The girl and her parents lived in the house until the girl reached adulthood. By that time, she divided up the house into three sections. She even built a wall of bricks to keep my mother from going into her world. It wouldn't do much of a difference, my mother could take down those bricks and rebuild them at her command. The girl's twin established herself landlady of the grand manor, naming it the Pink Palace Apartments. She moved away to escape the memories of that place, as well as thinking of a way to bring her sister back. After she left, my mother had, yet again, recreated the doll. This time as a blue-haired girl in a yellow raincoat. The girl's twin found it that way, she was confused as to why it was changed, but she, with no doubt about, knew it was her sister's doll. She locked it away, to keep it from being found.

As the doll laid locked away, the house was lived in by different tenants. The first ones were two retired actresses. Then a demented, blue-skinned Russian man with a craving for beets. They were of no interest to my wicked mother. Her sights were set on that blue-haired girl.

Then, she arrived. The blue-haired girl. Coraline Jones. Our savior. My mother disguised herself like Coraline's mother, and waited to whisk her away to see wonders never before seen. Coraline was at first disappointed to see a wall of bricks on the other side of the door. But by night, my mother's golems lured her to the small door to the fantastical world. Coraline was awestruck by the wonders of the Other World. She was amazed by the people she met, similar to her neighbors, but with button eyes. Days went by and Coraline was falling for my mother's creations. I was afraid she would fall into the same trap as the first three. Another soul forever trapped in the dark. But I was wrong. She refused to have her eyes sewn with buttons. When she made it out of the Other World my mother devised a plan to coerce Coraline into staying. She stole her parents and trapped them within the snow globe. She returned with the aid of a black cat. The cat was granted the ability to speak. No one knows where the cat came from. He somehow made his way into my mother's world. Through where? The small door was the only way to get in. I mentioned calling her our savior before. Do you recall that? Then I'll tell you. Coraline demonstrated great gusto and wits. She was unlike anyone I've ever seen. She challenged my mother. She wagered a bet. Her life for the ghosts trapped in the Other World. She had seen them when my mother threw her into the dark room. Learned about them and discovered my mother's true intentions.

I watched Coraline defy my mother's golems. Defeating them and finding each eye. You see, when the three victims came to my mother's world, they left behind a knickknack from the human world. They had ties to the human world and thus important. Coraline found two, but almost lost the game. But the black cat helped her find the last one, saving her from a horrific fate. Then the world peeled away, turning into dust. Coraline hurried inside with the cat. She went into the parlor, ready to face my mother. Coraline was smarter than my mother. She tricked her into opening the door that leads back to her world. After she opened the door, my mother thought she had won, but she was terribly wrong. Coraline threw the black cat at her. He clawed her buttons out of her eye sockets, blinding her. She tried to get Coraline even blind, but Coraline managed to lock the door with help from the three ghosts. Without the key, my mother couldn't get to the other side. When the night had arrived, my mother squeezed her needle-hand to the other side to find Coraline and the key. The hand found her and the key. She and that boy, Wybie, destroyed my mother's hand and threw it and the key into the well. It was over. It was truly over.

Without Coraline's life force to keep her magic intact, my mother would soon wither away. I know this because I am seeing her waste away. There is a reason why I stayed. I believe my mother is still there. Beneath all the darkness and the corruption my mother will be freed. I've had to watch her turn into this monstrous thing. For years I've had to watch my mother kill children, but I was unable to intervene. All I could do was watch. The other ghosts have been freed, but I'm still here. I don't want to leave her. She's still there. Her magic is fading and the world she made is crumbling away. Her golems have lost their sentience. And I think it was a relief. They grew tired of doing her bidding, as the years went by they developed individualities of their own. Coraline freed them and stopped their master. I'm still waiting for the darkness to let my mother go, so we can finally be together. She is still not quite yet there. The corruption still has a strong grasp on my mother's mind. I'm going to wait for it to vanish, and then my mother and I will be together. I will wait for an eternity for her, and I know she'll be happy to see me.

Until she is freed, we have all the time in the world.

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 **P.S. This is also kinda for Halloween, I didn't plan on it, but since it's October and Halloween's around the corner...I figured why not? ^_^**


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